


Maybe Definitely

by shewearsglasses



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Gwen Doesn't Die, Awkward Flirting, BAMF Gwen Stacy, Crushes, F/M, Female Peter Parker, Female Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gwen Stacy Lives, Haircuts, High School, Identity Reveal, Kissing, M/M, Mild Peter Parker/Harry Osborn, Mistaken Identity, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Prom, Self Confidence Issues, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 14:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2071008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewearsglasses/pseuds/shewearsglasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Penny likes Harry. Definitely. Maybe? Does she? With prom coming up, she's starting to doubt just about everything. Good thing Deadpool's there to not help anyone at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Definitely

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah yeah the title's pretty ironic considering the fact that Ryan Reynolds' is set to play Deadpool, but it worked so it's whatever.

Penny twisted her hair up into a bun and smoothed it underneath the mask. She should probably just cut it all off—but with prom coming up, she was hoping Harry would ask her and cutting it off might _cut_ her chances. She smirked at the horrible pun, and pulled the mask the rest of the way down.

She stood in front of the mirror and checked over her suit—making sure her chest bindings hid all her curves. Her hips were a bit wide for those of a normal male hero, but hopefully she’d be moving too much for anyone to notice. Other than that, her chest was flat enough, and her bindings were tight enough that it was impossible to tell she even had breasts—not that they were big enough to be considered noticeable on a good day.

Gwen chuckled, and she spun around to glare at her best friend, “What?” She took a moment to envy the size of Gwen’s breasts—thankful that the mask made it impossible to tell where her gaze lied. Gwen was curvy in all the right places. She had boobs! And while Penny’s own ass wasn’t something to shake your head at, Gwen’s was better. It was curvier in a way that was noticeable but not enough so that it was obnoxious. She groaned mentally.

Gwen shrugged, “You’re checking yourself out. Aren’t superheroes supposed to be modest and—oh, I don’t know— _not_ obsessed with their looks?”

“I’m a girl,” Penny said, voice deadpanning. She sat on the bed beside Gwen and slid on her shoes.

“ _That’s_ sexist,” Gwen said, standing up and taking the place Penny had just vacated in front of the mirror. “But if you mean it in the sense that you’re young and still learning, then yes, that’s probably true.”

Penny stuck out her tongue—remembering a moment too late that she had the mask on. Her tongue left a damp spot on the mask—she crinkled her nose. Why’d she always have to be immature? Why couldn’t she just take Gwen’s insults rationally and not leave dumb marks on her mask in the process?

Gwen slid her hands over her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles she’d made by sitting down. Penny watched with only half a mind, the other half concentrated on what she’d do that night. She had to be home before midnight so she could pretend to be sleeping when Aunt May got home. But what if she forgot again? Aunt May had been so mad last time—she couldn’t keep forgetting.

Gwen shook her head at her reflection, pushing a blonde lock of hair out of her eyes, and said, “Are you going or what?”

“Nah,” Penny said, lying back on Gwen’s bed. “I think I’ll just stay here. You go fight crime instead.”

Gwen snorted, “I don’t have the flexibility for those moves and you know it.”

Penny rolled her eyes and said, “Yeah, _that’s_ what’s stopping you.”

Gwen clicked her tongue. She dropped her hands to her sides, having finally situated her bangs in front of her face—not that they were even messed up. Gwen always looked perfect. Maybe Penny should ask her for help getting Harry’s attention…But she didn’t want to seem desperate. While Gwen knew about her crush, she didn’t know how big it was or how little Penny had done about it. Gwen sat in her desk chair, reaching for a book on her dresser. She opened it, and then looked at Penny from over the top. She raised a single eyebrow.

Penny groaned, “I’m going, I’m going!”

“Say ‘hi’ to Deadpool for me!” Gwen said as she jumped through the window and onto the fire escape. Penny turned around and flipped Gwen the middle-finger. She could hear Gwen’s laughter as she swung off the building and onto a nearby rooftop.

Gwen was referring to the mercenary who just loved to flirt with Penny until she was covered in a blush from the tips of her ears to the ends of her toes—not that he could ever see. The obnoxious merc who killed and swore—she hated to use the dumb old saying but honestly?—like a sailor. The dumb-ass merc who’d almost gotten himself killed countless times but he just couldn’t— _wouldn’t_ —die. Of all the annoying “heroes” she could’ve accidentally ended up in a partnership with, why oh _why_ did it have to be him?

But at the same time, he wasn’t horrible. He was actually pretty amusing when he wasn’t being an obnoxious asshole. Plus, he had these little considerate moments that often made her reconsider her entire opinion of him, but what did it matter anyway? _Harry_ was the one she liked.

Speak of the devil—

“Spidey!”

“Shit,” she fidgeted with her mask, hoping nothing had jumbled up her hair under the mask. It was pressed just _so_. One movement could affect either her sight—were it to slide into her eyes underneath—or her movement—as it might fall free from the mask and could then be used against her. She couldn’t have that. Especially not if she wanted to play up the illusion that Spider- _Man_ was indeed a man. She shifted to accommodate Deadpool in her line of vision—better to have him in her peripherals at all times, “Deadpool.”

“Aw was that baby’s first curse word?” Deadpool grinned through his mask. He was leaning against the rooftop doorway. If she didn’t know any better, Penny would say he’d been waiting for her.

“No,” she hissed, dropping her voice slightly to cover the femininity of her tone. “I swear all the time.”

Deadpool barked out a laugh and straightened to walk closer to her, “Don’t make me laugh.”

“Sounds like I already did,” Penny said, hand on her hip. She faced him fully.

He grinned wider, stopping a foot away from her. “Whatcha up to, baby boy? Wanna pair up?”

She scowled beneath the mask, but she couldn’t help the burst of happiness that sparked somewhere in her stomach. She put up an illusion of distaste whenever he was around—but really, she kinda liked his company. “Do I have a choice?”

“Nah,” he stepped past her, making sure to brush against her shoulder as he moved. “Just being polite.” He slapped her ass at the last minute, and she shrieked.

“Hey!” She covered her ass with both hands and spun to face him, “That wasn’t ‘polite!’”

Deadpool shrugged, “Wanted to.” He lifted one foot and fell back off the roof.

Penny gritted her teeth, her lips tightened into a sharp frown. She wanted to yell at him, but what would that help? He wouldn’t stop harassing her. Maybe if she flirted back—he’d back off? Like reverse-psychology. No, too dangerous.

She huffed and followed him off the roof, landing much more gracefully and jumping into the action. She couldn’t let him kill anyone, after all.

About twenty minutes later, she was sitting next to Deadpool as she waited for him to screw his arm back on. It was disgusting, so she avoided looking. “Are you done yet?”

“Almost,” he said, then broke into an off-key version of ‘The Skeleton Dance.’ She nearly whimpered. Why was she waiting again? This was the perfect opportunity to ditch the merc. He bumped his shoulder into hers, and before she could stop herself, she glanced at him.

She spoke before she could fully concentrate on what was happening, “Why’s your mask up?” He was smiling widely, having tugged the mask up to just south of his nose, as he—she choked on her spit—adjusted his bloody arm.

She spun back around, straightening her back and propping her hands on her knees. Yuck yuck yuck. Gross. Ew. Oh god. She slowed her breathing, and put one hand on her chest to calm herself. This was not ideal timing for an anxiety attack. She highly doubted Deadpool would know what to do.

Deadpool shrugged, bumping her shoulder in the process. “Sometimes I like some fresh air, ja feel?” She ignored the pop culture reference, concentrating instead on the air coming in and out of her lungs.

When her breathing returned to a rational pace, she almost thanked Deadpool’s disfigured arm for having distracting her from staring. She’d never seen Deadpool’s smile before and it was oddly—attractive. Despite the scars and dead tissue covering his skin, he was beautiful. His teeth were bright and unaffected by the bodily damage, and he had one of the best god-damn jawlines she’d seen in her 18-years of line. She snorted, since when did she find Deadpool attractive?

“All done!” He said, singing his words and jumping up to wobble his arm around in example. She was also pleased to note that he’d tugged his mask back down.

She scowled at the cracking sound the bone made as he moved it. “Are you sure?”

He hummed and looked down at it, then made a fist and swung it around. “Yeah,” he said, continuing to spin.

Penny stood and dusted herself off, “Good cause we gotta get moving. I can only be out for another hour.” She almost slapped a hand over her mouth—what the hell! She’d just told him she had a curfew!

Deadpool stopped and looked her up and down, “How old are you anyway?”

“Old enough,” she said, stalking past him.

He caught her bicep on the way and growled out, “Don’t tell me you’re not legal.”

“What’s it to you,” she snarled back, and tugged her arm out of reach. She rubbed at it awkwardly, and said, “Not that it matters, but I _am_ legal.”

See—things like that made her doubt the legitimacy of her crush on Harry. She was supposedly in love with her best friend, but then this god-damned merc asked her a rude question and she answered like a tiny little robot. It was as if he drew the words out of her mouth by some sort of magical spell. She squinted at him—what if he _was_ magic? He did have the healing thing after all… Maybe he had mind powers as well. She’d have to call up Professor Xavier—he’d know which mutant had which ability.

And sometimes she found herself hypnotized by his butt, and then there was the moment—less than a minute ago—when she’d fantasized about his smile. Jesus! What the heck kind of mystical siren-shit was this asshole doing to her?

He stared at her a second longer, and she walked past him to the mouth of the alley. She looked back, and he was still in the same place—staring. She shivered, “You coming or what?”

He jolted awake and raced after her, “Beat ya there!”

She watched him run past and shook her head, a grin making its way onto her lips. She snorted, so maybe she had a _tiny_ crush on the crazed maniac. But that was all it was—a childish crush. She’d be over it soon, especially if Harry actually got the balls up to ask her to prom. She was still staring after him when a thought popped into her head, “Wait! Where’s ‘there?’” She sprinted after him.

And that was how ‘Spider-Man Takes to the City for An Afternoon Jog’ became the Daily Bugle’s headline.

The next day at school, Gwen couldn’t stop laughing. They were in the cafeteria; Penny was holding a sandwich, having been about to bite into it when Gwen sat down. “Stop laughing,” she said, sneering at her friend.

“I can’t,” Gwen bit out through laughter. She doubled over, holding onto her stomach, “What the hell, Penn! A jog?” Why was she friends with this bitch anyway?

Penny scowled at her, lowering her sandwich to the table. “I wasn’t out on a jog! Deadpool wanted to race and he wouldn’t tell me the finish line so I had to follow him on foot.”

Harry dropped his tray to the table, “What’s up? Dead who?”

“Nothing,” Penny covered up—subtle as ever. “Nothing.”

Gwen wiped a tear from her eye, laughter subsiding. “Penny was just telling me about some movie she found the other night. It was nothing, really.” That—that was exactly why she kept Gwen around.

Harry glanced between the two of them, and then shrugged, evidently not caring enough to pursue the topic. He pulled his sandwich from his tray and bit into it. Penny smiled and bit into hers as well. It was thus Gwen’s turn to glance between the two of _them_ curiously. She raised an eyebrow at Penny—and her scowl was back. ‘Shut up,’ she mouthed at the blonde.

Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Johnny and Mary Jane joining them at the table. MJ sat next to Penny, nudging her with an elbow and gesturing at Harry on her other side. Penny reddened and nudged her back, miming at her to drop it. It’d honestly been a huge mistake to tell MJ and Gwen about her crush.

Johnny sat down with a flourish beside Gwen. As soon as his hands were free, he reached around Gwen with one arm and pulled her flush to him. She groaned through a bite of her noodles, but smiled nonetheless. Once she’d chewed and swallowed, she pushed him away. “Stop it,” she said through laughter. “Not here.”

Johnny smirked, “But _later_?” His voice was too low for MJ and Harry to hear, but Penny picked it up with her super-fancy super-awesome spider-hearing. She smirked into her sandwich, they were nauseating. Especially on Johnny’s side.

He winked at Penny, knowing she’d heard. Gwen just grimaced, “Don’t.”

“So,” Johnny said, facing forward and changing the topic, “You guys hear about Spider-Man?” Penny almost spat out her sandwich. Gwen let out a snort, and covered it with a coughing fit. She glowered at Johnny; he was doing this to taunt her.

Harry nodded back, “I never liked that guy anyway. He just wants attention.”

Penny flushed darker, and rubbed at the back of her neck. Gwen straightened in her seat, “I think it’s cute. He’s just having fun, after all.”

“Yeah,” MJ added, “Wouldn’t you if you had fancy Spidey-powers?” Penny brightened; maybe it was time to confide _more_ in MJ.

Johnny looked between those talking, and smirked at Penny again, “I don’t know, guys… You’ve never met him. He’s pretty short and effeminate,” Penny choked on her gulp of water. Harry patted her back, sending her a questioning look as her cheeks proceeded to heat up at his touch. She smiled once the coughing subsided, and sent him a thankful look. “Maybe he’s gay.”

“Doesn’t matter if he is,” MJ said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “I mean I doubt an awesome ass like his is gay.” Penny was mindful to hide her discomfort behind a napkin that time. “But it wouldn’t matter anyway. He’s saving the city! That’s more than I can say of _some_ _people_.”

Penny smirked at Johnny. It was his turn to flush, “First of all, I resent that. Second, how can you tell by an ass whether a dude’s gay or not?”

MJ shrugged, “I just can.”

“Whatever. All I’m saying is that Spidey likes dudes. It’s a fact,” Johnny sent a wink Penny’s way. She felt sick.

“It’s an opinion,” Gwen said, her voice low. She kicked Penny in the shin, who yelped. Gwen sent an apologetic look her way as Johnny laughed. She must’ve kicked him though, because his laugh cut off with a grunt and the table went briefly silent—half of the occupants having no idea what was going on.

Harry cleared his throat. “What’s your take on him, Penny?” Harry asked, and Penny took a moment to clear her throat. She made a humming sound, and Gwen shrugged like there was nothing she could do.

“I think,” she sputtered, rubbing her hands together beneath the table. “I think that he’s okay. I mean—I like to think he gives people hope, ya know?” Gwen nodded appreciatively, while Johnny just rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, he totally does,” MJ agreed, offering Penny a smile. Then again, maybe she _already_ knew.

Harry shrugged, “Hope for what?”

Penny swallowed another gulp of water, crossing and uncrossing her legs. “Maybe that eventually everything's gonna be alright.” Gwen grinned at her, winking when Harry wasn’t looking.

“Yeah, I just wish I had time for eventually,” Harry said. He finished the last bite of his sandwich and tossed his crumbled up napkin in the general direction of the garbage can.

Gwen rolled her eyes, “Go pick that up, genius.”

Harry sneered back, saying, “Whatever, mom,” as he did exactly as she asked.

“You’re right, Harry,” Johnny said, sidling up to Gwen and putting his arm around her shoulder again. She didn’t pull away this time. “Gwen _is_ the maternal-figure of the group.” Gwen glowered at her boyfriend.

“Gwen’s what?” Penny looked up just as Kitty sat down beside Gwen, “What’d I miss?”

“Well, most of lunch for one,” Penny said, eyeing the book she’d set on the table in lieu of food. “Where were you?”

“Nowhere,” she said, but her blush gave her away.

“Or more specifically,” MJ said, leaning forward across the table so she could waggle her eyes suggestively, “ _Who_ were you with?”

Kitty’s blush darkened. “No one,” she squeaked.

“I’ll bet ten bucks she was with Kenny,” Johnny said, letting go of Gwen to dig through his pockets. Penny watched as Kitty threw her hands up to hide the further darkening blush.

Penny smirked at her friend. “It’s too obvious. No one wants to lose ten bucks.”

Johnny and MJ continued to taunt Kitty, and Penny sat back, appreciating her moment out of the spotlight. That conversation had gotten much too close for comfort. She smirked as even Harry joined in on mocking Kitty. It was nice to be a wallflower again.

Later when they were leaving the cafeteria, and Johnny had steered Gwen toward the broom closet—yeah, Penny noticed—Harry approached her. He waved ‘goodbye’ to MJ and Kitty, who exchanged looks and giggled at Penny. Kitty sent her a wink as they turned the corner.

“Hey,” he said, shuffling his feet in what Penny knew to be a nervous habit. She smiled, was this it? Was he going to ask her to prom? “So, prom’s coming up and—” The smile grew on Penny’s lips. “I was wondering if you’d wanna share a limo?”

She tried to keep the disappointment from showing on her face, “Oh, um. I guess? I don’t have a date yet though, so I’m not sure I’m even going.”

“Oh, come on,” Harry said with a grin, “Ask someone! Anyone would be dying to go with you. Flash is probably twiddling his thumbs just waiting for you to ask.”

Penny pushed the discomfort from her smile, and forced a laugh at his joke, “Not everyone.”

“Who’s the dick who won’t go with you?” Harry scowled, and pushed up his sleeves, “Want me to beat his ass?”

“Yeah, as if,” Penny laughed—this time it was genuine. The concept of lanky Harry beating up _anyone_ was laughable—especially when the ‘dick’ they were referring to was _him_. She put her hands out and touched his arm, silently asking him to stop. “I can take care of myself. It’s nothing.” She let go of him and reached behind her to clutch the back of her elbow. “Who are you going with, anyway?” She bit her lip.

“Liz,” he said, shaking his head, “She actually asked me. I didn’t think anyone’d wanna go with me.” He laughed, “I was actually debating asking _you_ , ya know, as friends, but then she approached me, and I figured it was a great proposition. _She’s_ great.”

Penny blinked, “Liz Allen?” She bit harder on her lip, tasting blood. He was gonna ask _her_. She’d been so close. If she’d only worked up the courage to ask him instead and—she shook her head of the thoughts.

“Yeah,” he said. “So you better ask someone. I know Kenny’s gonna ask Kitty, and Johnny and Gwen are obviously already a couple. Plus MJ’s got like six guys tucked in her back pocket. So it’s all down to you, you know we can’t all go without you, right?”

Penny nodded, looking down her shoes. She swallowed the discomfort in her throat, “Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

She glanced up at Harry and he grinned, poking her in the forehead. “You’d better,” he turned around, calling, “See ya later, Penn,” over his shoulder.

She sulked the rest of the day. MJ asked how it went in fourth period, and she’d let out a long whine before dropping her head to the desk. No one asked again.

When she got home from school, and Aunt May wasn’t home, she’d just put on her mask and sidled out the window onto the fire escape. She needed to beat something up. She turned to close the window, and bumped into who else but Deadpool. He grinned at her through the mask, “Well, well, well. Look who’s got the underhand now, baby boy.”

She blanched, “Deadpool?” She shook her head clear and focused on what he’d said, “It’s the _upper_ _hand_ , idiot.”

He waved a hand at her correction, “Tomato, tomato.” Were he to mispronounce the second ‘tomato’ as the saying went, she’d have let it go, but he pronounced both identically. She opened her mouth to correct him again, but he cut her off. “Is this your place of residence or are you a cat burglar now? I mean, the costume’s tight enough, but you might wanna go with black. It’d _suit_ you better—get it? Plus, I gotta say, I’d really appreciate Cat Woman’s mask on you,” he said, leaning back against the railing. Penny shifted on her feet. She stood in front of her window to protect the view from his leering gaze. She needed to get new drapes like _yesterday_.

“What? Cat who? Don’t you mean Black Cat?”

He shrugged, “Same difference, really.”

“What’re you even talking about?” Penny said, shifting her hip to block more of Deadpool’s view. While her room wasn’t exactly ‘girly,’ it would be obvious as soon as he peeked in that she was far from Spider- _Man_. There were pictures of her with various friends and family members scattered across her walls, and while she could lie about those fairly easily, the anxiety meds on her dresser prescribed to ‘Penny Parker’ would be harder to explain. As would the drawer of bras and panties—not that she’d _ever_ allow him remotely near there.

 Wade grinned, “Nothing much, Spider-kid, but I like your Justin Bieber poster. Suits you.”

“What,” Penny glanced around behind her as if checking for said poster, then straightened and squinted at him, “I don’t have a Justin Bieber poster.”

“Just joshin’ ya,” he said, snorting at his own use of the ‘90’s phrase. “I didn’t even see anything. But now that I know you _do_ live here, you can’t keep me away long.”

“Fine,” she said, and stepped forward. Deadpool straightened and if the way his eyes widened almost comically was anything to go by—Penny assumed the movement had surprised him. Well, she thought, smirking beneath the mask, if _that_ surprised him… She reached out, placing her hand on his shoulder, and the other splayed on his chest. He looked down, and opened his mouth beneath the mask, then closed it again.

Her smirk widened—oh joy, a speechless Deadpool. Then she leaned in and—pushed him off the fire escape.

He shrieked as he fell through the air, then hit the ground with a sickening crack. She would’ve been slightly rumpled by the noise any other day—well, actually she’d probably feel a dash of pity mixed with a dose of revulsion, but today, she was too annoyed to care. She stepped off the fire escape after him, shooting out a web-line so she’d land gracefully beside him. She stepped over his chest, and lowered herself to straddle him. He grinned and opened his mouth—assumedly to say something lewd and inappropriate she stopped him with a threat.

“If you _ever_ come by my apartment again, I will make sure you never have a _penis_ again. I know you heal, I know. But I will cut it off and bury it as far from here as remotely possible. I will make sure you never find it, and if you do, I’ll cut it off again. Are we clear?” She leaned in while speaking, and by the end their faces were an inch apart. She dug her index finger into his chest as she spoke.

“Crystal,” Deadpool squeaked beneath her.

“Good,” she said and stood up. He sat up, twisting his arm back into place, and once the tell-tale crack sounded, shifted to do the same with his ankle. She grimaced and stepped over him, leaning back against her apartment building.

Deadpool stretched out his joints and turned to face her, “Damn, girl.” She flinched at the word, and almost said something aggressive then realized at the last second that he was probably just saying that—not intending to signify that he knew. “Didn’t know you had _that_ in ya.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged and rolled her neck to either side. She thought to add something else, but she didn’t know what to say, so she closed her mouth and leaned back again.

Deadpool stood and sauntered toward her, causing her to flinch back. She straightened, pressing her full back to the brick behind her in order to maintain some semblance of distance between them. Deadpool pressed a hand on either side of her head, and leaned in to say, “I like it.”

She almost moaned at the husky sound of his voice against her ear. He leaned back too quickly for her liking, and she sagged further against the wall. _Was_ it Harry who she liked? With a snort, she wondered if Deadpool would be up for prom. She did need a date. She shook her head clear of the thought. It was Harry. It _was_.

The rest of their patrol together was almost like normal—some banter here, some fighting there, some flirting everywhere in between, and when Deadpool ran off, and she was left alone in her bedroom, she began to debate getting curtains.

Yes. Definitely a good idea. It was only 6pm, so the local store had better be open. Skip a few minutes ahead, and she’s stood in front of the closest beauty parlor in her part of the city. The furniture and wall décor store was just a block up—she could see it from there. But the sign on the parlor door said it closed in twenty so it was now or never…

She heard the bell ding as she walked through the door. She sat in the nearest empty chair, and waited for a woman to approach her, “Hey kid, you know you’re supposed to go up front first, right?”

“Cut it all off,” she said, forcing all the confidence in her 5’4” body into her voice.

The woman paused; Penny made eye contact with her in the mirror, “All of it?” The woman—her nametag read ‘Stephanie’ reached out and ran a hand through Penny’s hair. “You sure?”

Penny nodded, “All of it.”

Stephanie shrugged and reached around her for the smock. She fitted Penny up and took her to the washing station. As the water ran over her skull, Penny tried to enjoy the feeling of her hair soaking. It was possibly the last time her hair would ever be that long. She breathed in and out, closing her eyes. This was a good thing. This was for her. Harry hadn’t asked her to prom—so what? She wanted to cut her hair, always had. She’d just been under the impression that Harry liked girls with short hair and that was bullshit—well, it might not be—she shook her head much to the hair dresser’s indignation. “Stop that,” Stephanie said.

Penny mumbled a ‘sorry.’ She had to do something for herself, she thought. She had to cut it because it wasn’t about whether Harry or Deadpool—she blinked _that_ thought away. Since when was that even an _option_?  Point was, it was about her opinion. Not theirs.

And that was how Penny found herself with a—surprisingly cute—pixie cut as she put the new blackout curtains up in her window. She smirked at her handiwork, and dropped down from her desk chair—thanking god that it wasn’t rolling. She stepped back to examine it and then she was on the floor. She blinked the dizziness from her eyes and scowled at the hair-brush she’d tripped over. How ironic that she’d never have to use it again.

“Penny? You alright, dear?” Aunt May called. Penny could hear her coming up the stairs.

“Fine,” she called back, but braced herself for Aunt May to open her door and see the new haircut. She got up and went to sit on her bed. Aunt May knocked before letting herself in. Penny closed her eyes.

“What—” she stopped when Penny came into view, “What’d you do to your hair?” The words came out as almost a shriek. Penny—whose eyes were now clenched shut almost painfully—opened one eye and glanced at her aunt.

“You don’t like it?”

Aunt May took a step into her room, glancing once at the curtains, frowning, then turning her attention to Penny once more. “I don’t… _dislike_ it. But why? Your hair was so lovely, dear.”

Penny opened her other eye, letting all the air out of her lungs with a dramatic sigh, “Is it that bad?”

“Are we playing the question game, now?” Aunt May smiled and sat beside her on the bed. She reached out and felt a lock of Penny’s hair, “It does look cute on you.”

“Really?”

She nodded, “Would I lie to you?”

“Well, yeah,” Penny said, laughing when Aunt May feigned a gasp. She reached out and elbowed Penny in the side. “Kidding, Aunt May. But _really_?”

“Yes, dear. It looks great.” She let the lock of hair she’d been examining drop and ran her fingers along Penny’s jaw instead, “But why?”

Penny shrugged, “I don’t know. Lots of reasons, I guess.”

“For you?”

“What?”

Aunt May smiled, and she used her finger to flick up the tip of Penny’s chin, “Was it for _you_? Was it your decision? Or was it for someone else?”

Penny returned the smile with confidence, “It was my decision.”

“Good,” Aunt May stood and walked to the doorway, “I don’t want my Penny bending to the will of a measly _boy_.”

“Aunt May—”

“And of all the colors, black? Why black?” She gestured to the new drapes Penny had just installed. “They’re so _goth_.” Her voice was coated in distaste.

Penny barked out a laugh, “They block out the room.”

Aunt May shook her head, “I don’t like them, but I’ll let it be.” She turned, making to leave, then spun around and said, “For now,” as if she could change her mind at any moment. Penny rolled her eyes. She wouldn’t.

When Aunt May closed the door, Penny flopped back onto her bed. She closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands. Should she ask someone to prom? It was barely more than a week away—wait, what day was it? Oh god was it Friday already? It was. It was Friday. That meant she only had a week before prom—and who wouldn’t have a date by this point?

Maybe she could fake sick. Johnny would drag Gwen, and MJ would go whether Penny went or not. She’d just have to convince Harry and Kitty to go without her. That shouldn’t be too hard. Scratch that. Harry would stage a protest. She groaned and dug her palms into her eyes.

There was a tap at the window, but she ignored it—assuming it was a bird or that weird cat from next door. But when it came again, she pulled her hands from her face and looked at it. The drapes worked well as she could see nothing—not even the shape of whoever was out there. It couldn’t be Gwen or MJ—they were at Gwen’s father’s police ball or whatever. And Harry would come through the elevator ‘cause he was scared of heights. Maybe it was Kitty or Johnny? But she’d probably have heard the flames if it was Johnny. And Kitty would tap a beat if she really wanted attention.

Penny grunted as she sat up. She approached the window, wondering if Deadpool had the balls—she snorted at her kind-of-pun—to return. How should she go about this? If it was a friend she couldn’t put her mask on, but if it was a Spider-Man ally then she couldn’t go without it. She took a deep breath, leaned down and opened the window an inch. The person on the other side gripped the bottom of the window and made to open it wider, but she held it still, “Who is it?” She muffled her voice with the drapes—hoping it wasn’t distinguishable enough to be heard as male or female.

“Uhh,” it was Deadpool. She used all the strength in her arms to close the window—on his fingers. He let out a yelp and tugged back his hands. She pushed the window fully closed and turned to grab her costume. She pulled her mask and web shooters on, and was in the process of tugging her costume up her legs when the window clicked open—shit! She hadn’t locked it.

She shot a web at the lights and the room went dark. She fell to the floor and hurried to pull her costume the rest of the way up. It was only when she pulled it over her arms that she remembered her chest bindings. She grunted, it’d have to do as it was.

Deadpool stepped out of the drapes just as she tucked the mask into the rest of her costume. He squinted down at her, “It’s dark.”

“Get the hell out,” she said, scrambling to her feet. “What’d I tell you earlier?”

He shrugged, and leaned back against her window, “Figured you were kidding.”

“Why,” she huffed out a breath and stalked close enough that she could poke him as she pronounced each word, “Would you think that?”

He caught her finger in one hand—she tried not to think how big it was wrapped around her own. He smirked at her, and shrugged again. Ugh. What a jackass. “You’re all show.”

“What,” she shrieked, and her voice rose too high. She clapped her free hand over her mouth and took a deep breath beneath the mask. They held each other’s eyes as she breathed, and when her shoulders sagged, she said, “I’m a man of action.”

Deadpool snorted, “I don’t think any of that’s true.”

She tugged her hand out of his, “What d’you know?” She stepped back and away from him, but he followed her. She continuously stepped back until he had her caged against the opposite wall.

“More than you think,” he whispered against her neck. One of his hands came up and brushed against her waist. “You have such curvy hips for a _dude_ ,” he said, and breathed out the last three words like a secret. She huffed in a breath. Did he _know_?

“And you’re pretty gay for a straight guy,” Penny breathed back. It was a dumb insult and she knew it. She wasn’t even sure he _was_ straight. But it was the only thing in her arsenal at the moment—she was too dumbstruck to think.

 If he looked away from her for more than a moment, he’d undoubtedly see one of her pictures. Her eyes zeroed in on a bra hanging out of her dresser behind him, and the stuffed bear her uncle had given her on the bed. He would know sooner rather than later.

He laughed, “Really?”

“Penny?” Shit! Her aunt was at the stairs again, “Are you talking to someone?”

Deadpool’s eyes widened, “Penny?” He stepped back and pointed at her, “Are you Penny?”

Her eyes matched his, but thankfully her own mask didn’t show it. She glanced between the door and Deadpool and did the only thing she could think to do, she pushed Deadpool through the window and followed him out. She closed the window behind her just as her bedroom door opened. She grabbed Deadpool’s arm and ducked out of sight. The glass dulled the sounds inside, so she didn’t know whether or not her aunt called out again, but at least she never looked out the window.

“Penny! And here I was thinking I had a hard-on for a dude. I mean, I’m omnisexual or whatever Duggan said about me. But like it’s never been so prominent. Spideypool is _big_ and I wasn’t ready for that big of a gay fling, ya feel me, dude? Well, not dude. Lady? Chick? Baby girl? What do I even call you now?” Deadpool was rambling but it was all just background noise as she concentrated on the lights flickering on and then off in her bedroom.

She sighed when she took a peek back in and her aunt was gone. She let go of Deadpool’s arm and braced a hand against her chest. Deadpool startled away from her at the absence of her touch. “Penny?” He repeated, “Seriouslythough? Like tell me if you’re a girl. Or better yet _show_ me.”

She glanced at him and her breathing quickened. He stared at her hard. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to answer. Her hand twitched against her chest and she felt her heart beat pick up again. She swallowed through the air forcing itself from her lungs and her other hand came up to brace itself against her stomach. She sagged against the wall. She felt dizzy. Colored circles bubbled across her vision. She tried to blink them away.

“Hey,” Deadpool was saying, “Hey, are you okay?”

Her chest hurt, and her breathing was still quickening. Her chest _hurt_ —oh god did it hurt. “I’m,” she gasped out between breaths, “Having an anxiety attack.” She leaned heavily against the building. Her legs dropped out from under her, but Deadpool caught her with an arm at her waist.

“Hey,” he said, “Look at me. Hey!” She looked up at him, trying to focus on just one of the spinning Deadpools in her vision. She blinked the others away and reached out for him. He caught her hand and led it to his shoulder. “Hey,” he said, “You’re alright. You’re _fine_.

“Here,” he said, and then his hands were grappling around her neck. She let out an awkward gasp, and he tried to reassure her, “You’re fine, just let me—ah!” He got ahold of the face mask and tugged it over her head. If it had been an hour ago, her hair would’ve fallen around her face in a dramatic movie moment. Instead, she remained still, save for her mouth opening and closing like a fish as she gasped for air.

Deadpool’s eyes travelled over her face, but he said nothing. She’d have been thankful at any other time, now she was just terrified. He must think her ugly or crazy or so young. He was what—thirty? He was so much older and she was just a little girl. She was a _child_.

He grabbed both of her biceps and lowered her to sitting a position. He was quick to follow her down. He then let go of her right arm and twisted to sit beside her. He slid his hand down into her own hand and tightened his grip there. She help on desperately, “You’re okay. We’re okay.” He said, and he used his free hand to lean her head against his shoulder. He squeezed her hand again, “It’s _okay_.”

She nodded, his shoulder warm underneath her cheek, “I know.”

“No,” he said. “You don’t and _that’s_ okay. Just focus on breathing. Breathe it all out.” She nodded against him again, and did as he said. She focused on taking control. Her mouth was moving and her lungs were opening and closing, but she didn’t feel like it was her own doing. She felt like a ghost along for the ride. She felt like she was watching her own body as it moved and breathed on its own. She sucked in a large gulp of air.

It was fine, he’d said. It was okay. Everything was okay. She was okay. She’d be fine. This was normal. He squeezed her hand, and she let out a shaky laugh. Her breaths slowed, and her heartbeat was suddenly not as loud in her ears. She could hear the blood slowing in her veins and her chest was loosening. Deadpool leaned his head against hers, “Mine’s Wade.”

“What,” she said, still grappling for air as she tried to speak.

“My name,” he said, and she felt the vibrations of his words against her hair, “It’s Wade.” He hummed, and she closed her eyes. She sucked in a breath, his name was Wade. He was introducing himself because he’d had the upper-hand. He was allowing her to take back control. She felt her breaths even out much more steadily until she was breathing almost normally again—still a little rushed, but she could hear over the sound of her heartbeat again.

She lowered her hand from where it was splayed against her ribcage. She sucked in a breath and wondered why he smelled so good. It wasn’t what she’d expected—not that she’d actually ever put thought to what he might smell like. It was like a mix of freshly cut grass and smoke from a fire. There was also a hint of mint in the air from what she assumed to be his toothpaste. She hummed back.

“You okay?” He said, tilting his head up as he waited for her to respond. She blinked the static from her eyes. Why was he so good at that? For all the bullshit he gave off; for all the loud, obnoxious banter, the exasperating flirting, and the kill switch that seemed to go off in his head every-time they fought…he’d been _amazing_. He’d help her through an anxiety attack. He’d done so calmly and rationally and he’d known exactly what to do. She blinked again. Only Gwen had even been able to help Penny through an attack—and well, Aunt May was a pro at it, but that was her job as a makeshift-parent.

Maybe she’d been wrong. A small smile ate at the corner of her lips. Maybe it _wasn’t_ Harry.

“I think so,” she said, and sucked in one final breath before switching to breathing through her nose again. “I think so,” she repeated, straightening, and almost bopping heads in the process. She could feel the grip of his hand around her own—steady and firm. She pretended to ignore it. She pretended not to notice his touch—but her stomach warmed at the sheer thought.

“So,” he said, and snorted, “Penny.”

Her mouth quirked up at the edge and she said, “So, Wade.”

He smirked and bounced their hands together as he shifted to sit across from her again. She glanced at their linked palms, but when she loosened her hand slightly, he pulled his away. She tried not to let the loss show through her eyes. “And here I’ve been calling you baby _boy_ for months now,” Deadpool—Wade, she corrected herself—said.

She shrugged, “You’ve got a big mouth.”

He feigned hurt, “You don’t trust me?”

Penny’s lips twitched into a full smile, “I hope that’s rhetorical.”

He grinned at her, then reached up to nudge the bottom of her jaw with his fist. She could feel her cheeks warm at the touch. She lifted a hand to hide the blush with her hair, then let the hand fall when she remembered it was all gone. She turned away instead.

“You’re pretty cute, Spider-kid.”

She stared harder at the ground, examining the fire escape beneath them curiously. She ran a hand across one of the bars, “Don’t.”

Wade was silent, and she almost felt her control slipping but she held still and refused to look at him. She heard the sound of fabric moving then something was tossed at her. She sucked in a breath and looked down at what she’d caught. His mask. Her head whipped back up to see him grinning at her—all scars and sharp angles.

Like the peek she’d gotten earlier, he was covered in white lines. His bottom lip was cut at the corner where he’d been worrying it, and his eyes were the prettiest blue she’d ever seen. She could only compare it to the blue of the daisy her uncle had given her two valentines’ days ago. It was the blue of Aunt May’s favorite hair clip—the one she put in every morning and forgot to take out every evening. The blue of her mother’s dress the last time Penny saw her as she waved ‘goodbye’ through the screen door. Penny blinked the thought away. His skin was marked up and red at the edges, but he was _beautiful_. His bone structure had the blush returning to her cheeks full-force and the hint of his teeth peeking out of his lips made her look away again.

Scratch _maybe_ , it definitely wasn’t _Harry_ she liked.

She brushed a finger over his mask, smiling down at it, “Thank you.”

His hand came up and caught her chin again. He forced her to look up and meet his gaze. “Don’t thank me,” he said. He tilted his head with the lopsided smile on his lips. “Just don’t get insecure when you could have this ugly mug instead of the gorgeous one you have.”

She blanched, “Don’t tell me what to do, especially when you’re ignoring your own advice!”

He grinned wider, “What, is this a rebellious teenager stage or something?”

“I’m eighteen,” she shrieked, finally allowing her voice to drop to its normal effeminate volume.

He winked at her, “I hear _that_.”

“What,” was the only word she got out before he leaned in and kissed her. She opened her mouth into the kiss—not sure whether it was to gasp or to allow his tongue in, but either way, that’s how it worked. He brushed his tongue over hers, and she awoke to the kiss, pressing back against him with all her energy. She reached up and rested her hand against his jaw. The other slid onto his leg.

Yeah, she affirmed. It wasn’t Harry at all.

Wade grinned into the kiss and reached out to pull her to him. She grunted as he crushed her body to his, pulling her up to straddle his hips in the process. He bit at her bottom lip and tugged, a motion which drew a low whine from Penny’s mouth. He smirked and brought his lips down to her collarbone. He tugged at the costume until both of her shoulders were visible. An idea came to life in her mind that she had to act upon. “Hey, Wade?”

He hummed against her skin to show he was listening, “Remember that time I said I’d cut your penis off if you ever came by again?”

He froze in the act of kissing her shoulder. He pulled away and faced her, a sheepish pout on his lips, “Yeah.”

She reached back and removed both of his hands from her hips—and where one had strayed to her ass. She stood, using his shoulders to help her up, and crossed her arms over her chest. “I was serious,” she said. She reached down for the mask Wade had abandoned during her anxiety attack. “I’ll excuse you this once if—”

He stood and drew her back to him. She let out a whimper when her cheek pressed against his chest. She was so short comparatively. How’d he never guess that she was a girl? “If I sex you up real good right now?” He purred, and scooped her up so her legs wrapped around his waist.

“No,” she put a hand out to push off of his chest. She tightened her legs around him, silently enjoying the way his hands felt on her ass. “I’ll excuse you this once and forever if—” She help up a finger and tilted her head to meet his eyes. “If you take me to prom.”

Wade stilled; the smirk died on his lips, “What.”

“I have a date,” she told the table the following Monday as she set her tray down. MJ and Gwen were in the midst of a conversation, but they both whipped around to face her at the words. Kitty, who’d been playing with edge of her tray glanced up at her as well. Johnny and Harry didn’t look up, but then—when did they ever care about that kind of thing? They were too busy talking about something dumb.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Gwen said, throwing her hands out. All the girls were staring at her with wide eyes. Penny shrunk under their heavy gazes. “What happened to your hair?”

Johnny and Harry finally looked up at that. Harry sucked in a breath and said, “Jesus, Penny! You’re practically a guy.”

“Hey,” MJ shoved his arm, “That’s a horrible thing to say.” To Penny she said, “You look great, Penn.”

Gwen nodded, “Yeah, it looks awesome on you. I wish I could pull off a pixie cut.” And that was the best thing she could’ve possibly said. Penny’s shoulders straightened and a smile tugged at her lips. She’d only ever been envious of Gwen’s looks—for her best friend to say that she now felt the reverse of that made the butterflies in Penny’s stomach take off in flight.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Johnny said. “I wish I could pull it off, girl. But it’s just too butch. I think I’d look like such a guy,” Johnny waved a hand in an effeminate fashion and raised his voice an octive.

Penny laughed, “Shut up, you ass.”

“Anyway,” Kitty said, leaning into Penny’s side, “Now that we’ve all established that your hair looks _bomb_. Can we talk about what you just said?” She glanced at Harry, and when he leaned forward to engage Johnny in another conversation, continued, “Did he—”

MJ frowned and shook her head at Kitty—it mustn’t have been meant for Penny to see because when she glanced at the red-head, she was smiling idly. Penny raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. Gwen shrugged. Penny rubbed at the back of her neck and said, “Uh, no. No. It’s not anyone from school.”

“Then who?” Kitty said. Gwen and MJ nodded vehemently.

Johnny leaned over Gwen, grabbing the apple from her tray and taking a bite. “Yeah, who?” He said, grinning at Gwen when she nudged him.

Penny looked around the table. All eyes were on her. She shrunk back in her seat, “Uh, it’s—his name is Wade.”

Gwen raised a brow, and Penny knew what she was asking. “I think I know that name from somewhere,” Kitty said, lip protruding, her eyes rolled to the ceiling in thought.

Johnny’s eyes lit up, “Isn’t that—”

“No one,” Gwen said sharply, cutting Johnny off before he could speak. “I was there when she met him. He’s just some guy from down the block.”

Penny shot her a look of thanks just as MJ whined out, “I wanna meet him.”

Penny said, “You will. On prom night.”

And so prom night came… And Penny told her aunt she wasn’t going with a date—to get her off Penny’s back about pictures—and she told all her friends ‘Wade’ was meeting her at the dance. She honestly wasn’t sure he was meeting her there. But at least they’d all believed that he would, so now they were all there—whether she had a date or not.

Penny hummed, tapping her heels together. “There’s no place like home,” Gwen said, sidling up to the wall beside her.

Penny grinned. Gwen looked absolutely beautiful. She was wearing a pale blue dress that brought out her eyes. But the dress was nothing next to how ethereal Gwen was in comparison. Penny was envious of the black stiletto heels that Gwen wore like a queen—sauntering about like a model rather than the clumsy monkey Penny was.

“Just bored,” Penny said, fisting her hands behind her back. She leaned against the wall and blew the bangs from her face. “I’m not used to this hair,” she said.

“Neither am I,” Gwen said. Her answering grin brought out the sparkle in her eyes. “But I love it.”

“Me too,” Penny smiled back. She looked out at the floor and tried to locate each of her friends. Kitty and Kenny were dancing near the foot of the stage—where the band played. Unsurprisingly, Flash and his date were barely a couple away. MJ and Harry were near the tables chatting with Liz and MJ’s date, whoever that happened to be. “Where’s Johnny?”

“Oh,” Gwen lifted a hand to move her bangs out of her eyes, “I think he’s in the bathroom.” Gwen glanced at her, and Penny kept facing ahead. “Ya know,” Gwen started, she raised a hand to touch Penny’s shoulder, “I would’ve ditched Johnny for you in a heartbeat.”

“I know,” Penny said. “But I couldn’t let you do that.”

Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a loud crash. Penny spun around, fearing the inevitable. A girl near the bathrooms shrieked. Penny glanced at Gwen and rolled her eyes before running off in the general direction of the chaos.

She’d been right. It was him.

“Hey! Babe,” Wade leaned on Johnny’s shoulder for support. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere.”

Penny drew closer and shouldered Wade’s other arm. He switched legs to lean on her. Were it a year ago, and were she without her Spider-strength, she’d have collapsed under the weight. Today however, she just grunted and said, “What happened?”

Johnny answered for him, “Dumbass crashed his motor cycle. Well, no, he stopped the bike pretty okay, but the back tire came up and he flew into the wall.”

“Ouch,” Wade moaned. “No, wait. Let me get my arm back in place.”

“Not here,” Penny stage-whispered, looking to Johnny for support. He nodded and tugged the two of them toward the nearest classroom.

Once he’d leaned Wade against the teacher’s desk, he said, “You two okay?”

Penny didn’t look at him as she nodded. “Yeah,” Wade said. Johnny must’ve given him a look cause he added, “I’m not gonna hurt her! Sheesh I don’t even have use of both my arms!”

Penny heard the door close behind Johnny as he left. “You okay?” She said, pulling herself out from under his arm.

“This prom is becoming more effort that it was worth,” Wade said, and he swung his arm back into the joint.

Penny flinched away, “Warn me, would ya! Do you always have to be so _graphic_?”

“Yeah, I do.” Wade said and leered over at her, “Now that I’m here, gimme some sugar!”

She ducked his arms, laughing as she scurried out of reach. “We’re not just gonna stay holed up in here! I asked you to prom to be _at_ prom.”

Wade snorted, “Damn.” She eyed him, and he took a moment to crack his knuckles then held his arm out for her, “You coming?” Penny grinned. She moved to accept his arm, then pulled back at the last second.

A week earlier, she’d never have believed she’d be here at prom with Deadpool, of all people. He was at least ten years older than her, and with all the scars softening his skin, she could barely believe he’d even agreed. But it seemed that as insecure as he obviously felt about his skin, he was also confident about it in a rather defensive way.

He looked pretty good cleaned up, she had to think. He wore a dark tuxedo with a bow-tie that matched her wine-red dress. They probably looked like quite the pair—her with her hair cropped all off, and him with the foot he had on her and scars decorating his skin like freckles. She felt her cheeks redden and she figured she’d have to act rather than stand there staring at him all night.

Wade raised a brow at her. Her grin darkened into a smirk and she slapped him on the ass. He guffawed, and she took the moment of surprise to dart out the door and toward prom, “Race you there!”

“Oh, you’re on,” Wade called from behind her. He laughed as he nearly slid around the corner, and she glanced back, a full grin abloom on her lips.

Screw maybe. It definitely wasn’t Harry she liked. Not even _close_.

It was Deadpool… who’d have guessed?

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I've been concentrating on instead of Bad Timing. But it's only been a week, don't worry! I'm NOT abandoning it! Far from. The next chapter is half finished. I've just had inspiration for other pieces instead of that. I know what's coming but it's so big that it's hard to write. I'll post the new chapter soon!


End file.
